


Maybe The Sun Will Stay Up For Once

by deltatime



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-17 20:29:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29231562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deltatime/pseuds/deltatime
Summary: Jonas and Daniel's relationship from early season 7 to post-Ark of Truth when Daniel takes Jonas to Atlantis. Jonas thinks Atlantis and Daniel are equally fun.
Relationships: Daniel Jackson/Jonas Quinn
Comments: 3
Kudos: 8
Collections: Stargate Winter Fic Exchange 2020-21





	Maybe The Sun Will Stay Up For Once

**Author's Note:**

  * For [perhapsaperson](https://archiveofourown.org/users/perhapsaperson/gifts).



#### 2003

Jonas sighs and rubs his eyes. If he doesn’t take a break soon, his vision will start to blur; it’s happened before. "You want coffee? Tea?" he asks Daniel, who's gripping the top of the chalkboard like he's hanging off a cliff as he scribbles the next few syllables of the translation they’re working on.

"I don't know," Daniel says. "Do I like those things?"

"I’m pretty sure you were a coffee person. Colonel O'Neill said you liked the fancy stuff, once, although I’m not exactly sure what he meant by that," Jonas tells him.

"I'll come with. I want to try both," Daniel says absently, continuing to scribble.

"Nah, you keep working, I'll get you one of each and drink whatever you don't," Jonas says. He carefully places a pen under the line he was on in the reference book and leaves his - _Daniel's_ \- office.

He's back before Daniel really notices he’s gone; time doesn't seem to pass the same when Daniel's translating Ancient. Jonas hands him a cup and Daniel cracks the lid open. It's coffee, black. He takes a sip.

"That's... not very good." He makes a face. The warmth is comforting, though, and even if it doesn't taste great he at least knows the caffeine will help him with the work.

"Try this," Jonas says, passing him the other cup.

Daniel takes the lid off and sips. "Oh, that's worse." The coffee's bitter and acidic, it’s true, but in a good way. This, however… "Tastes like hot dirt."

Jonas laughs at him and takes the tea back. "Hot _caffeinated_ dirt," he says. "I’m pretty sure there's sugar in the desk. It's not mine so it must have been yours - maybe that's how you liked it?"

Daniel opens all the desk drawers. They're more organized than he thinks they should be, although he can't remember any justification for that feeling. The sugar is in the bottom drawer, and he dumps what he hopes is an adequate amount into his cup.

While he stirs with a pen from the same drawer, he glances at Jonas and catches the other man staring. Jonas smiles ruefully and ducks his head back to the textbook.

"Was there ever anything between us?" Daniel asks him quietly. He's tried to sort out all the relationships he'd had with all these people without asking this sort of question, but he gets the feeling that like Sam, Jonas won't mind if he's direct.

"Ah," Jonas says, looking up just enough to meet Daniel's eyes. "No." Daniel's pretty sure that's all Jonas planned to say, but on a hunch, he stays silent and waits for more.

His patience is rewarded. "We didn't know each other for very long," Jonas tells him. There's more to that story, Daniel can tell. "Maybe in another life." Jonas's smile doesn't quite reach his eyes as he takes another sip of tea.

"It _is_ another life, for me," Daniel says, barely loud enough for Jonas to hear, before he turns back to the chalkboard. There could be something there, he thinks, but there's no time for that. He feels guilty for even the few minutes he's wasted on this train of thought.

* * *

#### 2004

They're sorting through piles of stuff from Daniel's office that Daniel’s identified as _property of Jonas Quinn_ that didn't make it to Langara when Jonas moved back. It's been slow going; the chaos of their contrasting organizational philosophies created plenty of categorical gaps for artifacts and notes to fall into. Jonas doesn't recognize half the stuff Daniel swears he's never seen before.

"This yours?" Daniel asks Jonas, holding up a black and gray North Face fleece.

"Kind of. They gave it to me when we went to Antarctica, and I think I was supposed to give it back but never did. I don't need it at home, so you can have it if you want."

It's the right size, and the right weight for Colorado springtime, so Daniel nods and drapes it on the back of his chair.

"You don't have to beat yourself up about it," Daniel tells Jonas after a few minutes of silence.

"About not giving back a jacket? Trust me, I wasn't," Jonas replies. "I'm considering it payment for services rendered."

"No. About Kianna."

"Ah," Jonas says. He doesn’t offer any further reply.

"Sometimes there's no way to tell they're not who you think they are, even if you've known the real person a long time. Being imposters, it's what they're best at. You're not... weak, or anything, for not seeing it. No one saw it," Daniel explains. It takes him a while to get through, and at the end, he glances up at Jonas. The other man has his jaw clenched and he's staring, unseeing, at a coffee-stained notebook.

Daniel crosses the room in a few slow steps and lays his hand on Jonas's shoulder. "This isn’t me speaking in platitudes. The same thing happened to me. So don't blame yourself when you wouldn’t blame me." He squeezes Jonas's shoulder. His skin is warm under his shirt, Daniel notes idly.

"I'm," Jonas hesitates briefly before continuing. "Disgusted with myself that I was capable of enjoying the company of a Goa'uld. I didn't want it to be possible. It's easier when the bad guys are unmistakably bad. I guess that’s probably naïve of me."

"No, ah, I understand," Daniel says, and he _really_ does. Jonas meets his eyes, and there's a lot left unsaid that Daniel can't begin to translate. Remorse, sure, but also resignation, and something else, something tense, that makes his heart skip a beat in unexpected anticipation. His other hand lifts from his thigh, drawn to Jonas's face before he catches himself and drops it again.

Jonas turns in his chair to face Daniel head-on and covers Daniel's hand on his shoulder with one of his own. Jonas’s shoulder is warm but his hands are shockingly chilly. For a moment Daniel wants nothing more than to take those cold hands in his and make them warm again. Neither man moves for several long moments, and Daniel realizes that he needs to bail out of this whole situation before it gets away from him.

"Jesus, I'm sure there are gloves around here somewhere if you're _that_ cold," Daniel says. With all the force of will he can muster, he manages only a soft parting squeeze to Jonas's shoulder before he drags his hand away. _Not the time, not the place, Jackson,_ he tells himself and goes back to his stack of not-junk.

* * *

#### Early 2007

Daniel paces from Landry's desk to his office door and back again, and does _not_ slam his hands down on his desk. He's a little proud of himself for that show of restraint. "I shouldn't need to remind you that the Langarans assisted us in the fight against Anubis, and Jonas Quinn personally saved my life and the lives of SG-1 and everyone _else_ here as well!"

Landry sighs. "And I shouldn't need to remind you that we have no idea what the situation is on the ground there now. We have no resources to offer them. At best, contacting them won't make it worse. At worst, the Ori take the fact that the Tau'ri have contacted them as a sign that Langara is just as dangerous as we are."

Daniel throws his hands in the air and turns on his heel. Landry is right and Daniel knows it. The best they can do is what they're already doing: checking up on the planet from afar using Jaffa patrols. The news they get is woefully lacking in individual status reports from the people (person) Daniel cares about, but at least they know that there are people left.

The sooner the fucking Ori are dealt with, the better. Daniel thinks Jonas would love Atlantis.

* * *

#### Mid 2007

It's hours before Daniel has a spare few seconds to call Jack, but as soon as he makes it back to his office he picks up the phone and dials Homeworld Security.

"Homeworld Security, General O'Neill's office. The general is unavailable at the moment; can I take a message for you?"

"Hi Reed, it's Daniel. Can you put me through to Jack, please?"

"Sure, Daniel. Hold on just a second," Jack's assistant says. The phone beeps, then starts ringing again. Daniel knows the drill: Jack's shouting to Reed that he didn't want to talk to anyone right now so _why is the phone ringing_ , and Reed's opening his office door a crack to tell him it's Daniel calling.

"Daniel," Jack says in greeting.

"Jack," Daniel replies.

"Congratulations on yet another world-save," Jack tells him.

"Not why I called."

"Did I miss your birthday?"

"I want Landry to dial Langara."

"Sure. Any other calls you need the director of Homeworld Security to make for you? Need your dry cleaning picked up?"

"Thanks, Jack."

"Reschedule your dentist appointment? Order some flowers?"

"I'm hanging up now. Call Landry!"

"At your service," Jack says quickly before Daniel gets the phone back on the wall. Daniel smiles, for real, for the first time in days. He hurries out of his office and down to the control room, in time to hear the click of Landry's desk phone in its cradle and the earsplitting off-world activation klaxon.

"Receiving a transmission, sir," Walter announces as Daniel and Landry enter from opposite sides of the room.

"Who's it from?" Landry asks.

"It's the Kelownans, sir."

"Funny, I was just about to ask you to give them a call," Landry says. "Open the iris."

Almost as soon as the iris is fully open, Jonas stumbles through the wormhole and onto the ramp. He looks... terrible. Daniel _runs_ down the stairs and into the gate room, catching Jonas's arm just as he trips down the edge of the ramp.

"Thanks," Jonas says, his smile brilliant despite his gaunt face.

"Anytime. Good to see you," Daniel replies. "You look, uh, bad."

"The Ori will do that. On that note, the funniest thing just happened."

"How about that," Daniel says. He tries to set Jonas back on his own feet but the other man stays leaning on him rather heavily, one arm around Daniel's shoulders. He slings an arm around Jonas's waist in support.

"Welcome back to the SGC, Jonas," Landry's voice says over the gate room speaker. "What brings you to our corner of the galaxy?"

"The Ori, or lack thereof," Jonas says and gives them a brief summary of recent events on Langara. Daniel knows he should pay attention but Jonas is warm against him, and he's uncomfortably aware of how Jonas’s ribcage feels under his hand. The briefing Jonas gives leaves out so much of the human suffering, Daniel thinks, although he's not sure how much of that he actually wants to know.

“If you have medicine or food to spare, it wouldn’t go amiss. Not everyone is in as good a shape as me,” Jonas finishes. God, this is good shape? Daniel winces.

"We'd like to know more about your naquadriah experiments, but perhaps after you get a hot meal and Doctor Lam checks you out," Landry tells them. "I'll organize a shipment of food and medical supplies as relief. We can't spare many people, so you'll need to take it from there."

"Thank you. _Thank you_ ," Jonas says, and the gratitude is plain on his face and in his voice. Whatever he's gone through, Daniel's glad it's over.

Daniel expects Jonas to either continue leaning on him on their way to the infirmary or to walk on his own. Instead, he leaves his arm around Daniel's shoulders as if he needs the help to walk, but his gait is mostly even and not much of Jonas's too-little weight is on Daniel. He’s more than happy to let Jonas lean as much as he wants, all the way to the infirmary.

He gets kicked out of the infirmary almost as soon as he walks in. _Walking_ implies a certain level of health that disqualifies Jonas for a bed, when the beds are mostly occupied by serious injuries. Lieutenant Rush is on duty, though, and Daniel doesn’t even have to turn on the charm to get her to check Jonas out.

The verdict is that he’s malnourished, dehydrated, the skin on his ankles is badly infected from where he’d been wearing manacles for what Jonas would only describe as “a while,” and the knee problem he said was “not that bad” was probably a poorly-healed meniscus.

Daniel suddenly understands why Jack had always been so frustrated when he said he was fine.

Lieutenant Rush finds Jonas a knee brace, a wound care kit, and a bottle of antibiotics, but she gets called away before she can get to work on Jonas’s ankles.

“I can handle it,” Daniel tells her. He’s dressed more injuries than he can count, and this time he can even do it without being shot at. She thanks him hurriedly and goes off to deal with whatever the other infirmary personnel are shouting about from across the room. The influx of refugees from across the galaxy has overwhelmed the SGC, and even the normally unflappable infirmary personnel are having a tough time keeping up.

Daniel puts Jonas’s knee brace on and finds him crutches. As loathe as Daniel is to give up the close contact of letting Jonas lean on him, it’ll be better for his knee if Jonas gets crutches instead.

They stop by the commissary and get Jonas a sandwich and as many power bars and pieces of chocolate as Daniel can sneak into his pockets. He’s got practice; it’s a _lot_ of chocolate.

Finally they get to Daniel’s office - significantly quieter than the infirmary, although the light is a little worse and the surroundings are a lot less sterile. Daniel closes the door. He gets the feeling that Jonas has been working overtime, literally and metaphorically, for a while; a bit of separation from the real world might be welcome.

“See if you can find a clear spot on the table to sit,” Daniel tells him while he goes around the room and turns on every light he can find. He plugs a reading lamp into an extension cord and takes it to where Jonas has carefully moved some books to make just enough room for himself. Daniel pulls up a chair, takes Jonas’s right boot and sock off, and places his foot on Daniel’s knee.

“It looks worse than it is,” Jonas says, a little shakily when Daniel rolls up his pant leg to expose the three-inch band of rubbed-raw skin. The Ori clearly didn’t pay too much attention to wound care, and the margins of the injury especially look nasty.

“I hope so,” Daniel says quietly. He opens the wound kit from the infirmary and pours some wound wash on the skin. It’s supposed to be the non-stinging kind, but Jonas winces all the same.

Daniel gently and carefully inspects the skin under the light, rubbing at any particularly infected areas. It takes him a while and absorbs all of his concentration, so when he glances up at Jonas’s face he’s surprised to see tears.

“Does it hurt too much? I can get some lidocaine,” Daniel offers.

“No, it’s…” Jonas starts, then he takes a deep and trembling breath. “The Ori were on Langara for a long time.”

There’s so much more to that story. Daniel holds eye contact and waits for Jonas to continue.

“None of us wanted to give in, at first. There was a plague. People started getting sick in Kelowna, but Tirania and the Andari Federation didn’t believe us when we wanted to institute a quarantine. It spread. People started dying. After the first few dozen deaths, the Tiranians pressured the Joint Council to accept Origin. I told Dreylock to vote no."

Oh, God.

Jonas takes a deep, wobbly breath before continuing. “The Andaris trusted my judgment and voted no as well. I thought there would be a treatment. Something. We tried everything we could think of and then some. By the time we’d exhausted our options, almost three hundred thousand people were dead.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” Daniel says quietly.

“Of course it’s my fault,” says Jonas hoarsely. “If I hadn’t said anything to Dreylock, _three hundred thousand_ people would be alive. Nothing we tried worked. People were dying every hour of every day. If I’d looked at the data, really looked, even an hour before I did, hundreds of people wouldn’t have died. When the Council finally did surrender to the Prior, everyone got better in minutes. _It is my fault._ ”

Jonas inhales sharply and rubs at his eyes impatiently. Daniel wants to tell him this office has seen more than its fair share of tears, but he can’t predict with any accuracy how that will land with Jonas so he stays quiet. “Dreylock took responsibility. She told me I was a hero, that I did all I could, and she told the entire planet that it had been her call and she made the wrong one. She was burned for it.”

“Oh my God.” It’s the only thing Daniel can say. The horror, even at this distance, makes his blood run cold.

“I didn’t learn. I thought I could serve her memory by keeping hope alive for a revolution. They caught me. They made an example out of me. I was chained to a bench for three weeks. People brought me water and food at night and pretended to not see me during the day. In the last few days, I stopped drinking, stopped eating.”

Daniel grits his teeth against saying _oh my God_ again, or something even less helpful like _I’m sorry_.

“Then it was just… over. Someone came and unlocked me and told me what happened. I went to the Stargate and dialed you. The whole time I was locked to that bench, I kept hoping the Ori had missed you because I _knew_ you wouldn’t give in like we did. I can’t tell you how happy I was when the wormhole connected and I got the response on my GDO. I’ve done a lot of things I can’t be forgiven for, but at least you’re alive.”

Daniel blinks away the prickly beginnings of tears and looks back down to Jonas’s ankle. He’d been distracted, but he’d worked on autopilot and the skin was clean and ready to be dressed. He opens up a pack of bandages and wraps one around Jonas’s ankle.

“It wasn’t you who killed them,” he says slowly and quietly. Jonas scoffs. “The deaths in actual battle are the easiest to cope with. It’s obvious who killed who. The people who died from the plague, it was the Ori who killed them. You didn’t create the disease, you didn’t spread it, you only tried to help. You had no idea what would happen if you surrendered to the Ori.”

“We knew what they told us, that they would cure the plague,” Jonas tells him sourly.

Daniel tapes the bandage on. “You didn’t know if they were telling the truth or not, not until after you surrendered. We’ve seen them lie before. Their whole religion is based on lies. The people who died are casualties of war. You tried your best to save them.”

“And I _failed_. Three hundred thousand people.”

“The Ori killed three hundred thousand people despite everything you did to try to stop them.” Daniel grips Jonas’s calf tightly like he can squeeze the guilt out of him. 

Jonas sniffs once and opens his mouth to say something, but changes his mind and stays silent. Daniel cleans and dresses the other ankle. The only sound in the room is the brush of nonstick cotton pad over skin and Jonas’s carefully managed breathing.

“I know you’re right,” Jonas says while Daniel’s putting the finishing touches on the tape. “I know you’re right, logically, but it’s going to take a long time to convince myself.”

“I know,” Daniel says. “It’s going to be hard for a long time.” He rolls Jonas’s pants back down and slides the chair back.

Jonas’s smile just barely reaches his eyes as he lets Daniel help him off the table. “Wonder what my life would be like if you hadn’t come through that gate.”

“Wouldn’t have much of one, since that naquadriah would have gone supercritical if I wasn’t there.”

“Huh. You’re right. Thanks for saving my life, what is it, three times now?”

“I think Teal’c keeps a count of galaxy saves. We can ask him for the latest numbers,” Daniel tells him. He hands Jonas the crutches and they go to check on the status of the relief package Landry promised.

Sometimes Daniel wonders what would become of him if he left the program. If it’s anything like what’s happened to Jonas, he’s sure trouble would manage to find him somehow.

* * *

#### Late 2007

"Doctor Jackson to the gateroom, Doctor Jackson to the gateroom," says Walter over the intercom. Daniel sighs and stands. He can take his coffee and sandwich with him, but the Jell-O will have to be left in the commissary. Another cruel casualty of war.

He's deep in thought all the way down the elevator and appears so detached from reality that an airman actually nudges his shoulder and asks if he heard the announcement. He nods and doesn't scowl, but it's a close thing.

Daniel rounds the corner into the gateroom and nearly drops his sandwich. Jonas is there, grinning so wide that Daniel wonders if it hurts his face to do that. Daniel foists his coffee onto one of the security guys so he has a free hand to shake Jonas's. The other man pulls him into a quick but tight hug that Daniel can't return as well as he would like with the sandwich in one hand.

"Hey, Jonas, good to see you," Daniel says into his ear, realizing after that his low tone makes the words more intimate than he really meant them to come across.

"You, too!" Jonas breaks the hug; Daniel takes his coffee back and sips to hide his smile. "I hear you've found some cool stuff over in the Pegasus galaxy."

"Some, yeah," Daniel admits.

Jonas turns and looks at Landry. "I was just about to ask General Landry here if he would be so kind as to buy me a ticket, so to speak. We've hit a wall trying to power our gate with naquadriah, and I think the Ancient database could help us out."

"It's your lucky day, Mr. Quinn," Landry says. "Doctor Weir has been asking for Doctor Jackson’s assistance with some Pegasus languages for a while now. Doctor Jackson, would you care to accompany Jonas to Atlantis?"

"Uh, yes. Yes, of course," Daniel tells him. "Now?"

"I think we can spare you some time to pack," says Landry dryly. "You can let me know when you're ready."

Jonas adjusts the medium-sized bag he's got on his back. Daniel gives it a glance; it's about the same size as the go-bag that's lived in his office for years. You never know, in this line of work, when it would be nice to have a week's worth of clothes and toiletries on ten minutes' notice.

Daniel decides to give himself plenty of time; there’s no need to rush. "Give me half an hour," he tells Jonas and Landry.

"Really?" Jonas's eyebrows go up.

"Could be ready right now, but I hate the Atlantis standard toothpaste," says Daniel. Whoever decided to send _cinnamon_ toothpaste had absolutely no taste. Probably McKay.

  
Jonas tails Daniel patiently as he hurries around the SGC, collecting his bag, some toiletries from his locker, and snacks from the commissary. Daniel tells him about Atlantis, although he's so excited he's not sure how much sense he's making. He tells Mitchell where he's going, leaves Teal'c a note in his locker, sends Jack an email, and tries to avoid Vala.

They do, somehow, manage to miss Vala completely for twenty-eight minutes. She appears in the control room just as Walter's dialing the gate bridge.

"Daniel! Vacationing without me?" she asks, somehow cheery and irritated all at once.

"Who's- " Jonas starts to ask.

"Chevron seven, locked," interrupts Walter, loud over the intercom, and Daniel practically drags Jonas up the ramp.

"Sorry, no time to chat! See you later!" Daniel tells Vala and walks backward into the event horizon with Jonas in tow.

Daniel rematerializes first, followed moments later by Jonas, on the Midway station. No one's explained this whole intergalactic gate bridge arrangement to Jonas, he realizes. Sam looks at them, shocked, from the other side of the room.

"Daniel! Jonas! What a wonderful surprise!" she says on her way over. She hugs both of them in turn.

"I thought I'd give Jonas a little tour of Pegasus," Daniel explains.

Jonas smiles. "We're working on powering our stargate with naquadriah, but we're having trouble regulating the power output. We could power a few dozen gates simultaneously with the power output we've been able to achieve, but keeping our single Gate from overloading is proving tricky."

Sam thinks about that for a minute, then asks Jonas some technical questions. Daniel waves to Bill, who waves back but doesn't come over.

"Anyway - you two should be on your way. Have a great time in Atlantis! We can talk more on your way back when you have more information, Jonas," Sam tells them.

They cross the gate room to the Pegasus galaxy and step through the other stargate.

The Atlantis gate room is expansive and high-tech, and Daniel could stare at the words on the stairs forever. So could Jonas, he suspects, but he’s sure that there are more interesting things to read than the stairs. A Marine shows them to their temporary quarters and lets them stash their bags before taking them to a computer terminal and setting them loose.

They go through the database for hours - Daniel's the more fluent Ancient reader, so he translates summaries and Jonas takes a note of anything that sounds relevant. They decide to do more in-depth reading tomorrow or the next day after they're over the gate lag. Jonas left Langara eight hours ago in the early afternoon, then departed Earth in the middle of the night, and finally arrived in Atlantis midmorning. They're both exhausted, Jonas approaching dead on his feet, by the time Daniel calls for an early dinner.

The food is unfamiliar to them both but non-threatening and mostly tasty. Even more unfamiliar are the two female scientists at the next table planning their wedding in the Athosian tradition.

"I take it they got rid of Don't Ask, Don't Tell?" Jonas asks after the two women leave.

"Not exactly. It's an Atlantis-only exception, for the American military at least. Canada and Sweden refused to participate if it wasn't written into the charter, and since Doctor McKay is Canadian, they had a lot of pull," Daniel explained.

"Did anyone tell you about the time Colonel O'Neill had to explain it to me?"

Daniel nearly chokes on his not-lemon not-chicken citrus poultry dish. "What?"

"Well, we don't have anything like it on Langara!" Jonas exclaimed. "The Marine I was kind of flirting with thought it was hilarious that I didn’t know, too."

Was that a male Marine who thought it was funny to be involved, or a female Marine laughing at Jonas's ignorance of military code? Daniel wishes, not for the first time in his life, that English had more clearly gendered articles and adjectives. In German, he'd know for sure if the nameless Marine was male or female - _der Marineinfanterist_ or _die Marineinfanteristin_ , no guesswork.

There is the tradeoff of separable verbs, though, and Daniel isn't sure he's ready to pay that price.

"Huh," Daniel says. He tamps down on the urge to ask for clarification.

Jonas looks down at his food then back up at Daniel. He seems more withdrawn now than before. "Something on your mind?"

"Uh, nothing," Daniel says then waves his hand. "Never mind."

"I didn't think," Jonas says icily, pushing back slightly from the table, "that you'd have a problem."

Daniel's brow furrows for a moment in confusion before he realizes. Jonas really _did_ just come out to him, and he said _huh, nothing, never mind_. "Oh, god, no, I'm sorry, I don't, I didn't!" he hurries to say. "I, I, I'd be one to talk. I mean, me, too." And there it is - Daniel hasn't said anything like that to _anyone_ for years. His throat feels tight with it; relief combined with the fear of the particular brand of rejection he hasn't thought about since before Catherine picked him up at that conference.

"Oh!" Jonas brightens. "So the… _in another life_ conversation we had right after you, ah, Descended. You meant it?"

"Yeah," Daniel murmurs.

They're quiet for a while. Daniel tries to steady his heart rate by sheer force of will. Jonas may be even smarter than he is attractive, good with people, and radiates a heat that makes Daniel’s mouth go dry, but Daniel isn’t going to let this _thing_ ruin the trip. Daniel has had more than enough experience working with people he shouldn't be attracted to. They can leave it here and forget about it. Daniel can, at least.

Jonas brushes his fingers against Daniel's fingers, and his train of thought evaporates. His skin feels like it's buzzing as he meets Jonas's eyes. There's compassion and respect and _burning_ in his gaze. Daniel drops his fork.

"Do you..." Jonas starts.

"Yeah," says Daniel.

"...want to turn in for the night?" Jonas finishes.

"Yeah." Daniel tries to keep his hands from shaking as he puts his flatware on his plate. God, how old is he? It's been decades since he started shaking from only a smoldering look.  
They put their trays in the pile and head back for their quarters. They have adjoining identical rooms; if not for the future-y alien tech, Daniel could mistake it for the Holiday Inn. By mutual silent consent, they end up in front of Jonas's door.

"I don't know what you're looking for," Daniel says quietly. This isn't the sort of conversation he really wants to have in a hotel hallway, but if he waits until they're in the room it'll be too late.

"But I can't do serious."

"Me either. Wish I could," Jonas tells him. He doesn't open the door.

"Yeah. Me too." Daniel is grateful that in this case, it seems like they're on exactly the same page. They're both too important to their respective planets, and carrying on a long-distance relationship through a stargate just isn't doable.

Jonas waves his hand in front of the door sensors and it slides open with a _well that's settled then_ sound. Daniel follows Jonas into the room and waits for the door to close behind him. Daniel jabs a finger at the internal control pad, locking the door. As the lock clicks into place Jonas's hands are on him, turning him around to guide him into a kiss.

Their first kiss is soft, gentle, but sure and confident in a way Daniel wasn't expecting.

Not that he would admit, even to himself, that he had any expectations at all; that he'd thought about Jonas's lips against his even for a moment.

Jonas has crowded him back against the door, pressing so firmly that Daniel can feel the cool metal of it through his shirt against his shoulders. Daniel's hands go to Jonas's waist and rest at the border of his shirt and belt. It's strange, he thinks, kissing someone exactly the same height, and he fights the urge to smile into the kiss.

Jonas takes advantage of his slightly parted lips to lick into his mouth. He’s gentle in how he handles Daniel, achingly so. Daniel sighs through his nose and tries to get Jonas to kiss him harder, but the other man won't take the bait. He must seem desperate as he slides one hand from Jonas's waist to the middle of his back to press him closer. Finally, finally, Jonas lets Daniel nip and suck at his tongue. Daniel tries to give Jonas a quick preview, a promise of how good he is with his mouth.

Daniel slides his tongue against Jonas's, savoring the taste of him. His hand slides around to Jonas’s chest almost of its own accord. Daniel pushes him away from the door and back toward the bed. Jonas's eyes are hot as he steps back and yanks his shirt off, in stark contrast to how gently he had initiated their first kiss. Daniel isn't sure if he's hoping for rough or slow - he can't quite imagine Jonas pinning him down and fucking him but he _aches_ for it all the same.

"Condoms?" Daniel asks, crowding Jonas against the foot of the bed but not pushing him down yet.

"Didn't exactly come prepared for this," Jonas says and kisses the soft skin under and behind Daniel's ear.

"Fuck," groans Daniel, and there's a handful of very attractive options ruled out. Daniel gets monthly physicals, including tests for just about everything medical science has invented tests for, but he doesn't want to give Jonas some unknown-to-medicine bug any more than he wants to pick one up from Jonas.

Jonas pulls at Daniel’s shirt until he can slip his hands under and up to his chest. "Plenty of options, still," he says, practical as always. He grips the hem of Daniel's shirt and uses it to pull them both down to the bed before pulling the fabric up so Daniel can slide out of it.

Daniel tosses his shirt and glasses off the bed with perhaps less care than he should have taken and grabs for Jonas almost desperately, his hands pressing over bare skin greedily as he sets his teeth to the juncture between Jonas’s neck and shoulder. Jonas’s hands are on him in return, hot and strong, as he tilts his chin back to give Daniel more to work with. The sigh Jonas makes turns into a delicious groan as Daniel bites down, the sound of which goes straight to Daniel’s dick.

Blindly, while he bites and sucks at Jonas's collarbone, Daniel works at Jonas's belt and pants. Thankfully, belts, buttons, and zippers are universal constants, and he makes short work of getting Jonas’s pants open enough to shove down. Jonas takes the hint and shimmies his hips, getting pants and underwear down around the tops of his thighs. Daniel impatiently finishes the job, pulling them the rest of the way down and off.

Jonas reaches for Daniel's waistband but can't quite get there, not with Daniel's teeth at his chest. He runs his hands up Daniel's sides instead, as Daniel slides down the bed to bite Jonas's nipple, then rib, then high on his hip. He's close enough to Jonas's dick to see the shimmer of precome, even without his glasses.

He stops. "You want me to figure out a dental dam or something?" he asks.

"Sure, ask me _now_ ," Jonas groans, his back arching uselessly. He pulls his head up to look at Daniel then lets it flop back onto the bed. "Your choice. For me, I figure -" He interrupts himself with a harsh breath through his teeth as Daniel lays a hand where his groin meets his thigh. "Fuck." Daniel's never heard Jonas swear before, and he can feel his cock throb against his pants. "I'm already eating food from another galaxy. What's one more thing in my mouth?"

Makes perfect sense to Daniel. He ducks his head quickly, licking the underside of Jonas's dick from balls to just under the head, pressing it to Jonas's belly so he can really work at his frenulum. Jonas gasps at the sudden sensation, his knuckles white where his hands grasp the sheets. Daniel keeps working over him with his tongue while he untangles one of Jonas's hands and moves it to the back of his head.

"You like your hair pulled?" Jonas asks him, clearly trying and failing to keep his voice even. Daniel nods and presses a wet, open-mouthed kiss to the head of Jonas’s cock. Jonas's fingers scrabble through his hair, finding purchase at the crown of his head. When his hand tightens it's still not so much a pull as a gentle tug, but it does the trick for Daniel regardless. It’s too much and not enough, and he yanks desperately at his pants one-handed to free his dick, squeezing it firmly through his briefs.

With his other hand, he adjusts Jonas's cock so he can wrap his lips around it. As he sucks gently and runs his tongue across the slit, he looks up through his lashes at the other man's face. Jonas clearly finds this just as erotic as Daniel hoped, and he yanks Daniel’s hair a little harder than before.

Jonas keeps his grasp on Daniel’s hair gentle but firm while Daniel bobs his head experimentally. Daniel's grateful; he's too out of practice at this for anything too ambitious, but he hopes Jonas can feel the promise of more by the way he's working his tongue. Some things you just don't forget.

"Been a while," Jonas gasps. "Not gonna - fuck! - take long, fuck, your mouth is amazing." It's not the first time Daniel's been told that, but it turns him on all the same. He's sure Jonas can feel his subvocal groan against his dick. The way his hand tightens in Daniel’s hair confirms it.

"Yeah?" Jonas breathes, although Daniel isn't sure what he's asking. He sucks hard at the head and sinks down as far as he thinks he can safely manage. "Oh, yeah, your _mouth_ , fuck, I swear you'd have me this close even if it hadn't been a while, you're _so good_." Daniel swallows as best he can around Jonas's cock and wonders how the hell he got his number from a single moan. Every word goes straight to his dick; he palms himself roughly and groans again.

When Daniel pulls back up and circles his tongue around the head of Jonas’s cock, Jonas makes a delightfully choked off noise. "Do _that_ again," he rasps, his voice gravelly. Daniel is happy to obey, especially if Jonas is going to make more noises like that if he does. "Fuck, I'm gonna, if you don't want, oh _fuck_ ," Jonas says, and it's four different sentences but Daniel gets the picture all the same.

Daniel bears down, swirling his tongue as Jonas arches against the bed and shoots into his mouth. Belatedly, Daniel wonders if letting him come in his mouth is really the best idea - but in for a penny, in for a pound, and he sucks gently in time with the pulses of Jonas’s release.

It's one hell of an orgasm, based on how Jonas groans the whole way through it and how long it goes on. Daniel keeps his mouth on Jonas's cock through the whole thing, until Jonas's body goes slack and he drops his hand from Daniel's head. At that point, Daniel pulls off and crawls all the way onto the bed. There are no tissues on the nightstand - actually, he looks around and there's none in the whole room, so apparently the Ancients never had allergies. Lucky bastards. With no other easy options, he swallows.

Jonas is still breathing hard, one arm over his face, when Daniel tosses the shirt back to the floor. "Jus' gimme... a minute," he says, slurring with exhaustion or overstimulation or both. Daniel's hard as hell, can feel where his briefs are stuck to the head of his cock with precome, but he can't bring himself to press the issue. He's not sure exactly how long a day is on Langara, but he guesses that Jonas has been awake for twenty hours or more.

"Don't worry about it. Sleep," he says.

Jonas lets the hand on his face flop to the bed and glares at him. And what a picture he must make, Daniel thinks: kneeling on the bed, pants open with his angry-red dick a sharp contrast against white underwear, his lips swollen from the blowjob and his hair as messy as it ever gets.

"Can't leave you like that," Jonas complains and struggles to push himself up one elbow.

"You'd fall asleep halfway through, and I'd rather get your best," Daniel says with a smile.

“No, seriously, just let me…” Jonas trails off and rolls to his stomach. He shifts on the bed until he’s level with Daniel’s groin. Daniel tries to summon up the willpower to say no again. Jonas must be dead tired, and Daniel’s hand is going to be more than adequate. But Jonas has braced himself on one elbow and he’s using his other hand to aim Daniel’s cock at his mouth, and how can he say no to that?

“Trust me. This is easy. Don’t hold back,” Jonas tells him before he opens his mouth and takes the head of Daniel’s cock in his mouth. Despite the encouragement, Daniel can’t bring himself to thrust. Jonas waits for a long second, then rolls his eyes exaggeratedly, takes a deep breath, puts a hand on Daniel’s ass, and _pulls_ him all the way in.

Daniel catches himself with a hand on Jonas’s lower back; he’s curled over Jonas with his _cock down his throat_ and it’s a fucking miracle he’s not coming already. Tentatively he rocks back and forth. Jonas moves his hand to Daniel’s hip and helps him find a rhythm. As soon as he does, though, he’s right on the edge of orgasm.

“Oh, God,” Daniel chokes out and he tries to pull back, but Jonas, perfect, clever, stubborn Jonas follows, and it’s with his nose pressed to Daniel’s belly that Daniel starts to come down his throat. Daniel’s hips buck in time with the pulses and Jonas just _takes_ it, eyes half-lidded and focused lazily on Daniel with a self-satisfied expression that’s so stupidly erotic that it prolongs Daniel’s orgasm, and the longer it goes on the more erotic Daniel finds it and the more erotic he finds it the longer it goes on.

After _forever_ there’s nothing left and Daniel’s shoulders sag. Jonas carefully pulls back and tips sideways to lay on the bed, exhaustion and satisfaction clear in every line of his body. Daniel can’t help but follow him, and by the time he recovers language Jonas is long since asleep.

It's hard to know how long they sleep. Daniel wakes up on his side, facing the windows, and opens his eyes to the soft blue of the morning over the ocean. He blinks blearily. Something woke him up, but clearly it wasn't the sunrise or an alarm clock.

Jonas slides his hand from Daniel's hip up across to his opposite shoulder. That explains what woke him. Daniel rolls onto his back without actually moving on the bed too much since Jonas is pressed up against him and Daniel really doesn't have very much space.

"Good morning," Jonas says in a low voice. He clears his throat once, softly.

"Mmmm... morning," Daniel replies. After he judged himself not to be in any immediate danger, he stopped trying to rush the waking-up process and his brain's not all the way online yet.

"This okay?" Jonas asks, and now he's tracing his fingertips down Daniel's side. Daniel realizes he's hard, which isn't surprising given that he just woke up, but he realizes it's not the inconvenient-fact-of-life erection he usually has in the morning. Jonas has been this close for a while, he thinks, and the thought makes his cock twitch. Jonas grins, catching the movement.

Daniel swallows. "Yeah, it ah… feels nice."

Jonas makes a satisfied sound and continues touching him, long strokes of his hand up his sides, across his belly, down his thighs. Daniel lets his eyes slip closed again. The rhythm is almost meditative, and the bed's so comfortable and Jonas feels so _safe_. The knot of muscle between Daniel's shoulder blades relaxes fractionally. He never feels this relaxed in his own bed at home.

His arousal is a glowing ember rather than the bonfire it was the night before. It's nice; Daniel lays back and lets the heat spread from his groin out to his fingers and toes. Jonas is unbelievably gentle and thorough. The character of his touches changes from petting to massaging as he refocuses on Daniel's thighs and calves.

He can feel Jonas's fingers against the scar tissue on his thigh - or rather, he feels the pressure of them. While the bullet wound healed enough, the nerves didn't regenerate the way the skin did, and he can no longer feel surface-level stimulation in the area.

"Got shot," he explains. "Four years ago? It's a good story. I'll tell you later." Now, though, he wants Jonas's hands where he can feel them. Jonas goes back to massaging, working his fingers into the tendons and ligaments around Daniel's knees. It hurts in the best way. He should schedule a massage when he gets back to Earth - or ask Jonas for a repeat later.

Jonas works on Daniel's calves for a while then strokes his hands back up to rest on Daniel's the points of Daniel’s hips, his fingers pressing gently on the waistband of his briefs. "Still okay?" he asks. Daniel nods with some difficulty; all his muscles have turned to jelly.  
Jonas pulls the waistband out and down to clear Daniel's dick, then pulls them off completely.

Daniel can feel his erection tap against his belly and suddenly the nebulous, lazy arousal Jonas had been stoking stirs to real flame. Thankfully Jonas doesn't waste any time. His hot mouth is around the head of Daniel's cock before he can blink, and suddenly Daniel is way closer than he expected to be, given the ridiculously fulfilling orgasm he’d had the night before.

Daniel sighs as Jonas presses his tongue to the sensitive spot right under the head and swallows. The movement of his throat clenches perfectly around Daniel’s dick. Shifting, Jonas wraps one hand around the lower half of Daniel's cock and sinks his mouth down, slowly, tortuously, until his lips almost brush against his thumb and forefinger where they encircle the base. Daniel groans when he touches the back of Jonas's throat and doesn't stop groaning while Jonas pulls back in a wet slide. Eyes mischievous, Jonas gently dips his tongue into the slit at the head of Daniel’s cock. When Daniel groans in response, Jonas winks and presses his thumb to Daniel's perineum.

That makes Daniel half-shout and thump the bed with his fist. When he thrusts up, almost unintentionally, Jonas swallows him back down again and Daniel presses the back of his hand to his mouth. Usually he likes a little more finesse than Jonas is giving him, but he's enthusiastic and talented, and soon enough Daniel's fighting against that familiar shivery feeling deep in his gut, desperate to prolong the sensation.

He squeezes his eyes shut and moans, low and dirty against his hand. He knows just how loud he gets when he comes like this, and he'd prefer not to have someone knock down the door looking for a crime in progress. Daniel can feel the head of his cock against the back of Jonas's throat, the steady pressure of Jonas’s thumb against his perineum, and the sensation drives him closer to the edge. He adjusts his hand to bite down on his wrist and tries desperately to focus on the sharp pain instead of how Jonas has his tongue curled against his frenulum.

Then Jonas rubs his thumb up behind Daniel's balls, and all of Daniel’s nerves are on fire. As much as he wants to draw this out, he needs more. "Like that, goddammit, harder," he says, greedy, his voice hoarse from the effort of staying quiet. Jonas dials everything up a notch - sucks harder, flicks his tongue harder against the underside of Daniel's dick, and circles his thumb against the sweat-slick skin between Daniel's balls and ass.

That really is too much, and it's all Daniel can do to gasp out "Gonna!" before he's coming. Jonas slips his mouth off just in time, catching Daniel's cock in his hand and rubbing the head while Daniel shoots over his own stomach. Jonas gives a half-pained groan and Daniel’s eyes fly open and despite the way his vision has gone foggy and white at the edges he can see Jonas’s face, his eyes shut tight and his mouth soft and red and open, and he _can’t_ see Jonas’s hand, shoved between his stuttering hips and the bed.

It goes on _forever_ , every circle of Jonas's thumb pulling another pulse from his dick. Daniel feels like he can't _breathe_ through the sensation and he certainly can't help his hips jumping and thrusting against Jonas's hand.

Finally, he realizes the rush of blood in his ears is actually just his own wordless groan, and he cuts himself off short. There's come striped up to his damn collarbone; that's the most intense orgasm he's had in years. He wants to tell Jonas so but can't make his throat work.

Jonas pulls himself up and flops on his back next to Daniel. They're both breathing heavily, Daniel more so than Jonas. Their arms are touching, and Jonas has thrown one leg over Daniel's, but it's too hot for real cuddling.

"You're _hot_ when you come, you know that?" Jonas says breathily. Daniel drags his parted lips into a satisfied smile and lets himself sink deeper into the bed.

As the minutes pass, the come cools and starts to dry on Daniel's chest and it eventually gets too uncomfortable to ignore any longer. He rolls off the bed and grabs his shirt from the floor.

"I'm gonna take a shower. You want to join me?" he asks Jonas, who hadn’t yet shown any intention of moving.

"Nah. Take your time, I'll go when you're done," Jonas replies.

Daniel's a little disappointed he won't have company until he sees the shower stall. It's barely big enough for just him, and while being crammed up close would be _fun_ it wouldn't be particularly _functional_. He washes quickly, then towels himself dry and goes back to the bedroom.

Jonas rolls off the bed and makes his way to the bathroom. Daniel puts on yesterday's clothes, but he's going to have to go next door for anything clean. Ugh. Should have thought of that last night.

"I'm gonna go back to my room, get dressed. Meet you in a few for breakfast?" Daniel calls through the closed bathroom door.

"Okay!" Jonas tells him over the sound of the shower.

Daniel looks for a peephole in the door to check for anyone in the hallway, but there's nothing there that he can see. That's certainly an oversight on the part of the Ancients. Not for the first time, he wishes there was a way to lodge a complaint of some sort. If there's anyone outside, he won't have a scrap of plausible deniability.

But who cares? He's a civilian, leaving another civilian's room, a galaxy away from any rules that say he shouldn't. He takes a deep breath and tries to convince the door to open only partway. The door slides halfway open, which he supposes is better than it could have been, but it turns out it doesn't matter because there's no one in the hallway anyway. Apparently, there are perks associated with housing a few hundred people in a city meant for hundreds of thousands.

He grimaces at the thought as soon as he has it. It was poor taste to think that way about the tragic loss of life there, even if it was long ago. If the SGC wasn’t careful, humans could be wiped from this place just as easily as the Ancients were.

Shaking his head as if to physically clear the gloomy thoughts from his mind, Daniel hurries to his room to get dressed for another day of database study. It's nice: he doesn't need weapons in Atlantis and he thinks it's pretty unlikely there'd be an emergency he'd be tapped to participate in. He glances around for wood to knock on, but there's nothing.

Daniel checks out the skyline visible from his window. He discovers he has a balcony when the window suddenly slides into the wall, then discovers that the balcony is connected to Jonas's room. No more walks of shame, he thinks with a smile.

Jonas smiles at him from inside the room; he's mostly dressed and just toweling his hair dry. Daniel tries to find an entry point but either the window/door is locked or there's just no way to open it from this side. Jonas laughs and comes closer to Daniel, but no matter where he waves his arms the window won't open. Daniel panics a little - what if he can't get back to his room, either? - but suddenly Jonas actually touches the wall and the window slides open.

"Oh thank God," Daniel says in relief. Jonas has the gall to laugh at him in reply, but Daniel can’t bring himself to be too irritated. He’s willing to be laughed at if it means he gets to enjoy Jonas like this, relaxed, mirth crinkling the corner of his eyes.

Jonas contains himself quickly. "Breakfast?" he offers, stepping aside so Daniel can get into the room.

"Coffee," Daniel counters. Surely there's got to be something in this galaxy with caffeine, anyway.

Jonas pulls the collar of his shirt down to show a constellation of bite marks. “Thanks for keeping these easy to hide,” he tells Daniel.

“Oh, you know me. Nothing if not considerate,” Daniel replies with a smile. “We’re… good, right?”

“More than good. As long as you’re up for another round tonight.” Whoever taught Jonas to wink didn’t do a very good job.

“I was afraid you wouldn’t ask,” Daniel says. “Come on, the sooner we get to work the sooner we can quit.”

**Author's Note:**

> evidence supporting the Same Jacket Conspiracy Theory at [deltatime dot tumblr dot com](https://deltatime.tumblr.com/post/643113779280904192/same-jacket-jonas-quinn-stargate-sg-1-604)


End file.
